


All Hail Scottish Jesus

by violentcheese



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Crack, Eggsy loves Jezza, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Gen, Harry is baffled, Merlin is addicted to Jeremy Kyle reruns, Merlin is v protective of his rerun time, Mild Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-11
Updated: 2015-07-11
Packaged: 2018-04-08 17:28:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4313970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violentcheese/pseuds/violentcheese
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin has a thing for Jeremy Kyle reruns. </p>
<p>Seriously.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Hail Scottish Jesus

**Author's Note:**

> This came about from me sending stupid headcanons to the beautiful Caroline (just-oldghosts on Tumblr) and her badgering me into writing this. 
> 
> There wasn't much badgering involved. 
> 
> Scottish Jesus!

Merlin knows he has a problem. He's just not particularly bothered about fixing it. Why would he? It's harmless, really; it doesn't infringe on his job, it doesn't screw up his interactions with others (in fact, it's a boon with the arrogant recruits and knights alike) and no one else knows about it. 

That is, until Eggsy. 

The young man is an expert at finding himself where he shouldn't be- namely, intruding upon Merlin's carefully triple-locked office on a Friday evening. No-one should be able to bypass those security measures, Merlin designed and perfected them himself! And yet there Eggsy is, eyes wide as he stares at Merlin's private workshop's giant flat screen. 

"Bruv.." whispers Eggsy, turning his reverent gaze onto Kingsman's resident tech magician, currently an amazing shade of cherry red. "Bruv, no! You serious?" A grin grows across the newest Gawain's face as he flings himself across the room to vault onto Merlin's couch. "You n' Jezza?" he laughs, disbelieving and overjoyed. 

Merlin supposes there are worse people to be caught watching Jeremy Kyle alone on a Friday evening by. He nods slowly, still unsure about Eggsy's intentions. Is he about to be mocked into an early grave? But no, Gawain is clapping in delight, head thrown back to accommodate his happy peals of laughter. 

"Merlin, you sly bastard! Mum's always watchin' this back home, I was nearly startin' to miss the fucker!" sighs Eggsy, settling into the couch properly. Merlin, still not having spoken a word beyond a quiet "shit" as his door unlocked itself, frowned at him. 

"What are you doing? I'm not-"

"Not what? _Not_ stuck into Jeremy Kyle, all cooped up in your office n'all? Is this why yous wouldn't come out wiv me, Harry an' Rox all those times?" Reading the guilty look on Merlin's face, Eggsy snorted, shaking his head good-naturedly. "S'alright, Mer, I don' blame ya. This bloke's a riot! Which one is this?" He gestures to the giant TV, where Jeremy is screaming at someone who's clearly yoked up on something illegal. 

There are many routes of action that Merlin could- should- take, beginning with kicking Eggsy out of his workshop, his _sanctuary_ and getting on with his evening in peace. But from the way Eggsy's face had fallen a little into a sad, wistful expression as he mentioned his Mum watching the show at home? Merlin wonders about how much their baby recruit actually gets to see Michelle and Daisy these days. The lad is always off on one mission or another, hardly a handful of free days between missions thanks to the Valentine debacle. (And god, wasn't it spectacular to watch Eggsy clock Harry one on the chin when he showed up at HQ with no warning!). 

Merlin remembers the loneliness of being so close to your family yet so far away, separated by lies and injuries and questions that could never safely be answered. And only for that, _only_ for that, Merlin turns his head back to the screen and mutters, "That delightful lad crying about rehab is denying he stole from his best mate's Mum to feed his habit. His best friend, stupidly loyal as he is, believes the bawbag." He ignores the strange look he gets for that bit of his native slang. They have to deal with only understanding half of Eggsy's sentences as it is. Serves him right. 

Merlin raises the volume, jerks his head at the screen and lets himself get stuck back into the programme. 

Eggsy's not a half-bad Jeremy Kyle partner, after all. 

 

***************

It doesn't become a routine. 

(It does.)

***************

Friday nights that find Eggsy in London, injured or simply not in the mood for a wild night out with Roxy and Bors - mad party animal that the elder Knight is, even Roxy and Eggsy are impressed by their stamina-, also find him cooped up in Merlin's workshop behind a now-quadruple-locked door. 

There are a few nights that Eggsy finds the show's content hits (literally) too close to home. Those are the nights that Merlin side-eyes his favourite charge, catches how his jaw is clamped shut, his nostrils flared, his knuckles white around the arms of the overstuffed armchair Merlin had moved in especially for Eggsy and quietly flicks over to one of the old Bond movies. Eggsy, despite living the Bond life as such, always loses himself in the glamour of 007. Those are the nights that he and Merlin pick apart fight scenes, copy out ridiculous one liners in both a chav accent and a heavy Scottish burr. Those are the nights that leave Eggsy with two spots of colour high on his cheeks from watching Merlin swagger about the workshop spouting bad puns in time with Bond onscreen. Those were the nights that eased the knot of worry for Eggsy that sat in Merlin's chest, even just a tiny bit. 

They were good nights, all considered. 

Then there are the fury-filled nights that have the two of them- one bald, flushed with righteous indignation, one hopping about like an irritated puppy- screaming at the screen. Egging Jeremy on, chanting for the security teams to give the offensive 'guests' a solid decking. Those nights usually have an unusually-sheepish Merlin handing Harry a requisition form for new equipment the next morning. 

("What happened to the last- £15,000 Merlin? What on earth happened?" "Ah come off it, Harry, sign the damned form. The old one was on its way out as it was!") (Subtle high-fives are exchanged between Gawain and the wizard upon a successful diversion of Harry's attention, a cheeky whisper of "praise be to Scottish Jesus," passing between the two.) 

*****************

Of course, it's not one of the aforementioned nights that Harry manages to find them on. 

Scottish Jesus doesn't love them that much, unfortunately. 

No, this Friday evening, as Harry uses his Arthur override codes to quietly open Merlin's workshop, he finds quite a scene. It's not what he expected at all. He isn't actually sure what he had expected- perhaps Eggsy and Merlin having an illicit affair of some sort? No, no. 

It's worse. 

Harry has been fobbed off by Eggsy for Friday drinks three weeks in a row now and he wants to know why. It's why he blinks in shock at the two men on the couch, surrounded by used tissues and an empty bottle of Merlin's good Scotch. They seem to be watching something, although Harry can't see what has his two friends in such a state! Eggsy appears to be wrapped up in some fuzzy Afghan, the frayed ends twisted around the fingers of his left hand as his right dashes away the fat tears making a break for freedom down his cheeks. Merlin- Jesus Christ, Merlin has his glasses perched on the crown of his head as he turns and leans into Eggsy's shoulder for a loud sob or four. 

Frightened and unsure, Harry backs away sloooowlyyy and lets himself out. 

What the bloody buggering fuck?

********************

Merlin and Eggsy continue on like so for months, even when Eggsy's away on a mission. 

"Back at the hotel now, Merlin, the tracker's on her shoulder. Which bloke knocked her up then?" Eggsy asks, forgetting Roxy is there. He earns himself a concerned frown, allayed by one of Eggsy Unwin's trademark cheeky grins. "S'a game we play, Rox, don't mind us. I'll be up to yours in a few and I'll 'elp ya clean the guns out." Once she's gone, Merlin fills Eggsy in on that evening's rerun, ending with an indignant, "Of course it wasn't the one with the turn-ups on his jeans. It was the ginger. Poor bastard, looks like a carrot gone wrong, lad." 

Eggsy laughs at that all the way up to Roxy's room because he's seen old photos of Merlin. Well, he had figured out the password to get into Merlin's old recruit file and his photo was downright **hilarious**. He hadn't been allowed to watch Jeremy Kyle that week, in retribution. "You were one too, once, bruv!"

Eggsy's signet ring shocks his pinky for his comment.

********************

Eggsy is into his third year as Gawain when he suffers his first major injury. With a fractured femur and a shattered ankle (on opposing legs, for fuck's sake!), Eggsy is confined to bed rest in the Kingsman Manor. He can't go home because Daisy sees Eggsy as her personal climbing frame, no matter his injuries. Everything is made better when Merlin rolls in a telly, sequesters himself in the chair beside Eggsy's bed and flicks on the DVR. The young man had been knocked out for the better part of a fortnight and Merlin's been recording the episodes for him. 

"Aw, Merlin, you're the guv'nor," slurs the patient, high as a kite on painkillers. "Been missin' this." 

"Aye, me too. Now hush up, Jezza's talking! Sleep if you need to. I've got a meeting with Arthur in a half hour anyway."

Eggsy's already snoring before the guest can get halfway through their story.

Once Eggsy's up and about on crutches, he's a menace. A skilled acrobat and gymnast is not made to be left hobbling around. It's only natural that he learns a few mint tricks on his crutches, innit? Merlin confiscates them while they watch their show together, their positions swapped. Eggsy takes the couch to stretch out his injured legs and Merlin, grumbling and huffing, gives in and takes Eggsy's chair. The painkillers that Med Bay have Eggsy on are rough on his system, sending him to sleep if he spends more than ten minutes horizontal. Merlin throws the Afghan over his friend, pats his head and sets back to work, The Jeremy Kyle show paused on the flat screen. That's how Roxy finds them, though she makes no comment apart from, "Thank you for taking care of him. He won't sit still for Harry nor myself. He's a devil on those crutches of his." That earns a snort from Merlin as he hands over her equipment.  
"But really? Jeremy Kyle?" 

For that, Lancelot is shooed out of the workshop, five locks engaging behind her. It wouldn't do to wake the lad, after all. 

*********************  
One of the nights, Eggsy is nearing a full recovery. His painkillers are down to almost nothing but when the evening time comes about, he is sleepy and prone to saying the first thing that comes to mind. He and Merlin and locked in behind six locks once more, Harry being sent home that evening with a stern, "The bairn is in no state to be drinking, Harry. Take Bedivere with you, god knows he's dying for a night on the town." And that was that. 

"Merlin?" Eggsy asked quietly, twisting the Afghan's loose ends around his fingers as was his wont. "Did I ever tell you 'bout the time I rang Jezza for me Mum?"

Oh, no. They've been doing this; sitting in and watching stupid reruns of a stupid show for nigh on three and a half years now. Merlin thought there was nothing else for Eggsy to share. 

"I rang 'im for me as well but.. But Dean threw a bottle o' sumfin' at the bloke when 'e called round to see if he'd come on the show. I thought.. Maybe Mum would realise how shit Dean was for us- me and Daisy and her. She didn't listen. It was a stupid idea n' anyway. Just anuvver chav family on the show, people laughin' at us and forgettin' about us as soon as the credits pop up.

"I stopped watchin' it after that but it was easy to start again wiv you. You don' hit me, you don' drink till your liver rots itself. I like what we 'ave 'ere. S'easy, innit? You was all nice an' all, gettin' me my chair an' sharing the good Scotch from home an' recordin' them all when I'm away. S'easy and s'nice. Safe.. Aw hell, bruv, don't gimme that look! Shouldn't have said nuffin', stupid anywa-"

"No. Eggsy, lad, Scottish Jesus Almighty," Merlin breathes out, interrupting Eggsy before he can shit on himself even more. "It's not stupid, I'm.. I'm bloody glad you feel safe here. I like what we have too. You haven't had to break in here in months, didn't you realise?" Merlin grins, getting up only to sit on the arm of the sofa, patting softly at Eggsy's shoulders. "You're always welcome here, aye? I'm sorry we dinnae do anything about Dean sooner. Turns out you didn't need Jezza Kyle after all. Just Hazza!" 

Their shared laughter echoes around their locked workshop, _their sanctuary_ as Jeremy Kyle bids goodnight in the background. 

 

"Contact the number on screen now if you suspect your partner of cheating. This is Jeremy Kyle, thank you ladies and gentleman!"

**Author's Note:**

> Find me at violentcheese on Tumblr! Talk to me about everything Kingsman!
> 
> Bawbag is Scottish slang for ballsack. Merlin is classy.


End file.
